The Mollusk Manifestation
by causidicus-anna
Summary: *COMPLETE*What if Sheldon had his own "hoo" moment in season four? And what if he resisted recognizing it as such? An alternate course for their relationship beginning when Amy was simply a friend who happened to be female. Featuring more jealous!Sheldon, sexually befuddled!Sheldon, and perhaps a Sheldon-initiated kiss or two. Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory does not belong to me
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes**: to reiterate: *THIS HAS ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE ELEMENTS* For those of you who prefer to read fiction that is totally canonically consistent, this probably won't be your cup of tea. For those of you who go on a season four and five bender and feel extremely frustrated afterwards (like me), hopefully this provides some relief :D

A big THANK YOU to **Lionne** (**Lionne6** on this site), who is a fantastic editor and writer, and the master of Shamy characterization. (By the way, if you have not read her story "The Harp String Complexities," do yourself a favor and get on that pronto. You know, only if you want spot-on characterization with an insanely sexy backdrop.)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: AU

* * *

"Oh, cut the crap, Amy. You aren't actually dating this guy; I can tell."

"I most certainly am!" Amy shot back.

Amy's cousin laughed, picking at the chicken in her salad. "They're definitely lab partners," she murmured to Amy's aunt.

Amy pursed her lips determinedly, and turned in her seat to face Sheldon. Sheldon's eyes widened as Amy smashed her open mouth against his.

_Oh LORD_… he thought in horror. _The germs the germs the—_

Something was touching him in his lower stomach, _inside_ of his stomach. _Curious_. It felt like an octopus, or at least what he'd imagine one would feel like. _Yes, that is precisely what it feels like. _This octopus was descending, its tentacle gently brushing the tops of his intestines. _But that cannot be_, he thought suddenly. _Goodness gracious,_ _it felt—_

Before he could process his disjointed thoughts, Amy broke away from him, wiping her mouth with as much dignity as possible, looking expectantly at her cousin.

Her cousin, along with the rest of Amy's family sitting around the table, looked on with astonishment. "Good God, Ames," her cousin blurted out. "I was just kidding. I don't care whether you and this guy go knocking on doors asking people if they've found Jesus."

Amy swallowed. "Well…as I'm sure you're now aware, we enjoy long nights of torrid lovemaking. Now, if you'll excuse me, both Sheldon and I are on the verge of field-altering discoveries. Good day."

She scooted away from the table loudly and turned on her heel to leave the restaurant. Sheldon unceremoniously followed her.

* * *

The drive back to Pasadena passed mostly in a tense silence.

"Sheldon," Amy said finally, staring straight ahead, "I…apologize for my actions tonight. I allowed my childhood rival to stir my primal competitiveness and reacted rashly."

Sheldon did not respond.

"Perhaps I should investigate Kolinar techniques?" Amy smiled suddenly, glancing his way.

Sheldon was still uncharacteristically silent and staring out the window.

After a moment he responded, "Oh, it's quite alright."

Amy stared at him. "It is?"

Sheldon nodded noncommittally.

"Oh. I'm relieved to hear that." She glanced quickly his way once more, but he was looking out the window again.

* * *

_Sheldon dreamed that night that he was on a boat – not like a sailboat or a cruise boat, but something like a submarine. In his dream, he sees Amy far away, across an open space, but when he tries to walk towards her the boat begins to rock rhythmically side to side to such a degree that he can barely stand up. She doesn't make any efforts to get closer to him. He is not scared of what's happening to the boat. He doesn't feel any fear or deep desire. He patiently makes his way across the open space between them with the octopus squirming in his stomach. It's not unpleasant._

* * *

Sheldon opened his eyes, believing that he was still on the submarine, but the feeling (the octopus?) was rapidly fading. He closed his eyes again and flipped over on his side, his fingers curling around his Darth Vader pillow. _Come back_.

* * *

The next afternoon at lunch, Leonard spent approximately fifteen minutes attempting to brag about a sexual victory without going into any ungentlemanly detail.  
Sheldon was staring off into space, unaware that he'd neglected to answer a question.  
"Sheldon?" Leonard asked, perplexed.

Sheldon started slightly. "Hmm?"

Leonard shook his head. "I don't think I've ever witnessed you allow someone to suggest a different laundry schedule without cutting them off."

"Oh…that won't happen," he responded in a somewhat subdued tone.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What are you thinking about?" asked Howard suspiciously.

"Trains," Sheldon answered immediately.

* * *

_Three days later_

Sheldon opened his eyes. It was still dark outside – had his alarm gone off? He uncurled his knees from his chest and turned around to look at his clock. As the glowing display came into focus, something warm and slimy crept down his thigh.

His befuddlement morphed into utter horror as he realized what the substance under the covers most certainly was.

He frantically jumped out of bed, fighting the urge to burn his PJ's _Thursdays were his_ _favorites! _and his bed sheets in his room. This hadn't happened for years – seven years, two days, six hours and twenty-three minutes to be exact. He'd thought that this indignity was over. _Over_.

* * *

_Two days later_

Sheldon was making his bed, a precise and arduous process. He leaned over the bed to pull the sheet even in the middle until just the edge of it touched his headboard.

_Gripping the headboard, hoisting Amy's leg over your shoulder_—

Sheldon leaped away from the bed like it was a dirty sock. He felt ill—something was wrong with him. He had food poisoning; he just knew it. Or malaria! These were actual symptoms of malaria…in one case. Yes, it was likely malaria.

**To be continued**


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed! It is very much appreciated. Thanks again to **Lionne6**, editor extraordinaire!

Warnings for this chapter: Just to remind everyone again, this is a little bit AU (alternate universe) in that this story occurs in a season 4/season 5 setting, and the relationship agreement has not yet been conceived. Also, Stuart/Amy never happens in this universe, though jealous!Sheldon is there in spades. Additional warning for this chapter: introduction of an original character.

* * *

_One week later_

"Excellent suggestion, Amy Farrah Fowler."

Her computerized image nodded at him. "I believe that this will be a successful way to navigate your professional relationship with the department head," she said. Her gaze fell to the bottom corner of the screen and she smirked, typing rapidly.

"With whom are you g-chatting?" Sheldon asked before he knew what he was saying.

Amy looked back at the computer camera with a raised eyebrow.

"David Ricci. I've been collaborating with him on some of my addiction work. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," said Sheldon, shrugging, "I simply didn't realize you were on a g-chatting basis with your lab partner."

Amy gave him an odd look. "It is an efficient way to communicate. And furthermore, he's not my 'lab partner' – he is an accomplished neurobiologist in his own right at the university." She glanced at the corner of the screen again. "He's informed me that Ricky has stubbed out one of his cigarettes on Fred's anus again. Needless to say, Fred's feces flinging has intensified."

Sheldon looked as if he hadn't heard any of what she'd just said. "Do you g-chat with others at your lab?"

Amy blinked. "Of what relevance is this question to what we were discussing?"

"You're the one who interrupted our Skype session to address this real-time correspondence, and thus it is you that made this question relevant to our conversation."

Amy considered this. "I suppose that's true – though we generally don't refocus the conversation when Leonard walks by and disrupts our sessions. Additionally, I believe you've checked a text message recently and neither of us found it remarkable."

"But…" Sheldon began, then stopped. Her logic was sound. _Was a brain tumor affecting his cognitive reasoning? Oh no, perhaps it was the malaria, slowly destroying his precious tissue—_

Amy was frowning now. "Are you feeling ill, Sheldon? Pardon the idiom, but you have not been yourself lately."

Sheldon hesitated before speaking. "I have been feeling rather peculiar recently," he said carefully.

Amy straightened her glasses. "Well, let us assess your symptoms and narrow the possibilities."

Sheldon was silent for a moment. "Actually my bladder is my most pressing, pardon the pun, concern right now. We'll continue this conversation at our regularly scheduled Skype session tomorrow." He gave her a bland smile and closed the computer gently.

When it was halfway closed and the screen was black, he slammed it shut and jumped away from it. Good _lord_, what was he thinking, admitting to her that he'd felt "peculiar"? He'd need at least forty minutes to weave a cogent tale of some affliction that didn't include the octopus presence. Or the...waking nightmares. And traditional nightmares, come to think of it. _But you do suspect malaria to be the cause; why not consult her? _He uncomfortably pushed that thought aside.

He paced around the room with his hands clasped behind his back. He supposed he didn't have to tell her anything; it was possible she wouldn't deem it an important enough topic to broach during their next Skype conversation_._ His musings were interrupted by the vibration of his phone, alerting him to a new email. He retrieved his phone from his pocket to check it.

His finger paused above his Gmail icon on his phone, then he looked up in the direction of his computer. He put his phone back in his pocket, strode over to his desk, and reopened his laptop, logging into his Gmail account. He skimmed the message quickly and deleted it. He pursed his lips, then scrolled down his chat contact list until he arrived at Amy's screen name. She was still on g-chat, and still "available." _Probably still chatting with that beaker jockey._

He wondered what else could possibly be said about feces-flinging monkeys that would still be occupying her time – it was doubtful Ricci was "a ball of fire," as his mother would say. After all, the natural "sciences" produced mostly amateurs who could hardly be called scientists. _Except for Amy_. She might as well be hobnobbing with Penny, gabbing about menstrual cycles and pantyhose and such. _If only Amy and I had met earlier perhaps I could have persuaded her to join the superior discipline._

* * *

"What do you say?" Amy asked Leonard, though her attention was laser-focused on the hangnail she was currently picking at.

Leonard regarded her from the kitchen, cringing slightly at the self-mutilation proceeding apace on his couch. "Go with you to a fundraiser for the biology department?" He asked distractedly.

Sheldon, who'd been typing furiously at his desk, stopped.

Amy nodded. "No chance of pulling your groin muscle this time – no band. Also, the staff of my lab will be there and I have accrued acquaintances among them - perhaps I've absorbed some of Penny's socialization techniques after all."

Sheldon looked up from his computer.

"Amy," he said reproachfully. "You don't actually believe that _Leonard_ will make you appear more intelligent and promising to donors, do you?"

"I think she does," Leonard said, smiling now.

"Why on earth wouldn't you take me?" Sheldon continued, ignoring Leonard. Amy looked up suddenly at Sheldon.

"Maybe she heard about your impressive attempts to scare away all of the physics donors?" Leonard suggested. Sheldon turned around in his seat to glare at him.

"I did not 'scare' that woman – though she is clearly intimidated by brilliance and I'll have you know—"

Leonard grinned, enjoying Sheldon's explanation of the donor's "lack of vision." By chance he glanced over at Amy again, who he noticed was still staring intently at Sheldon.

Leonard cleared his throat. "Actually, Amy—Sheldon probably would be a better choice." he said, interrupting Sheldon's diatribe. "I have to go…somewhere that evening," he amended. Both Amy and Sheldon stared at him.

"Why didn't you say that originally?" Amy asked flatly.

Sheldon shook his head at Amy. "That's typical for Leonard. He still forgets the bathroom schedule."

"Yeah, yeah," Leonard cleared his throat again. "Well, I'm uh… actually going into the bathroom now," Leonard said. "To take a shower," he added. He nodded once to himself, then walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"Do you see the kind of chaos I'm dealing with?" Sheldon asked Amy once the bathroom door was shut.

Amy nodded, then looked down at her nail again. "So," she said, "do you want to go instead?"

Sheldon folded his hands at his desk thoughtfully. "I believe in advancing the cause of science – if potential donors approach you and see me, they'll recognize that your taste in companions reflects a penchant for brilliant discoveries."

"All right," Amy looked down, a broad smile overtaking her face for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and gathered her messenger bag as Sheldon turned back to his game. "I suppose I should be going - we're experimenting with withdrawal again on Ricky, and David needs me at the ready with the tranquilizer gun."

Sheldon stopped typing again for a moment. "You say that the staff of your lab will be in attendance at the fundraiser, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

Sheldon nodded, attention already focused elsewhere.

Amy opened the door of their apartment. "Oh, by the way," Amy said over her shoulder as she was leaving, "it's black tie."

* * *

Sheldon burrowed deeper into his cocoon of blankets while checking his email one last time. The only new message was a forwarded email from Kripke with the subject line "hot cosplayers rocking RockBand." Sheldon shook his head distastefully, and began to close his laptop so that he could put it in its safe place on his bedside table. He paused when it was halfway shut, then reopened the computer and logged into Facebook.

He typed "David Ricci" into the Search box, revealing a multitude of results, but only one with whom he shared a common friend. He clicked on the link - the common friend was indeed Amy Farrah Fowler. This was _the_ David Ricci.

He clicked on the profile. "You must first be friends with David to view his entire profile." Sheldon rolled his eyes. He noticed that Ricci's profile pictures were visible, though.

Looking around quickly as if someone were the in the room to see him, he clicked on the album. His first picture was a blurry photograph of a stage at some sort of outdoor concert. _Good heavens, Amy, what kind of hooligan are you associating yourself with?_ The next picture was some candid shot of Ricci running through a wooded area with a number pinned on his chest. _What a mindless fool_, Sheldon thought with disdain and, inexplicably to him, a slight stirring of unease. _Why would any scientist display proof of participating in such a pointless activity?_ Even his sister could run around at considerable length, and, as his mother always said, she was as "dumb as soup." Ricci must be more of an imbecile than he first guessed-a thought that cheered him considerably.

Clicking on the next picture stopped his mental revelry cold, though. It was Amy. Standing next to Ricci. Three other people dressed in white coats were also in the photo with them, but she was the one positioned directly beside him. They were all holding cigarettes (_cigarettes, really?_) and grinning wildly. In front of them was Ricky, taking a drag off a Virginia Slims. After a thorough examination, which included saving the image to his hard drive and subsequently enlarging it, he realized with some relief that the cigarettes held by Amy and the rest of the white coats were not lit. _ Regardless, he must be a terrible influence on all of them, _thought Sheldon, still slightly scandalized. The next picture after was a portrait-style photo of Ricci wearing a suit. Sheldon felt a growing sense of annoyance as he examined Ricci's face close up.

_Simpleton_ Sheldon thought viciously, then slammed his laptop shut.

**To be continued**


	3. Chapter 2

_The night of the fundraiser_

"Are you enjoying the refreshments?" Amy asked with some hesitation.

"Actually, yes. They are quite unusual, which is normally a truly awful quality of food, but these have been a pleasure. In fact, I'm going back for another helping." Sheldon walked back to the ample buffet, leaving Amy alone at their table.

After picking the freshest-looking of the food left, and also inquiring after the catering company's license and most recent health inspection certificate, Sheldon turned around to walk back to the table and was annoyed to see someone sitting in his seat. _Not just someone_, Sheldon realized with alarm.

David Ricci and Amy were having quite the animated discussion. As he absorbed the shock of seeing the digital abstraction very much in the flesh, the brunette interloper beckoned Amy closer in order to speak directly into her ear. _My lord, that's_ _unsanitary_. Amy nodded at Ricci after his contamination exercise, then leaned back in her chair, stretching her arm over her head.

He was suddenly struck with a horrifying vision of them in the midst of coitus wherein she was arching up against him in the same angle she was in now.

"Sheldon?"

Amy and David the Fiend were staring at him, at which point he realized he was standing in front of the table with a death grip on his hors d'oeuvres plate. Sheldon cleared his throat.

"David Ricci, I presume?" Sheldon asked.

"Oh-yes." David looked confused but pleased that Sheldon had apparently heard about him.

Sheldon sat down slowly on Amy's other side at the small round table, keeping an eye on Ricci as he did so. He noticed that Ricci was perhaps as small as Leonard. He hoped Ricci harbored similar insecurities about his condition. "David, this is Doctor Sheldon Cooper. He's a theoretical physicist at Caltech." David held out his hand with a bright smile. Sheldon nodded at him coolly.

"I'm sorry, I don't participate in the customary germ exchange on first meetings, but hello."

David lowered his hand, his smile faltering a little. He looked at Amy, who narrowed her eyes at Sheldon, then shrugged slightly, turning her attention back to David.

"You were saying?"

"Oh…yes," David stuttered, but then re-launched their spirited discussion of some such silly thing associated with their degenerate smoking monkeys. Amy was listening with the intensity of someone receiving the instructions for cold fusion. _For the love of_—

"Excuse me," Sheldon interrupted. They both turned to to face him. "Do you...realize what implications the Higgs-Boson discovery has on funding at Caltech in particular?"

Ricci looked confused again. "No, I'm not aware of the effect it would have," he confessed. He glanced at Amy again. "But it sounds interesting," he added hastily.

Amy's brow was now deeply furrowed. "It isn't really," she informed David while staring at Sheldon. Sheldon crossed his arms and stared back at her.

David cleared his throat as Amy and Sheldon continued to glare at one another. "So, Sheldon-" David began.

"Doctor Cooper," Sheldon corrected him.

"Doctor Cooper," David repeated, with a tiny edge in his voice this time, "how do you and Amy know each other?"

"That's none of your business," Sheldon responded without looking at him. David blinked a few times, then sighed and took a large sip of his cocktail.

Amy turned to face David. "We were matched by a dating website's algorithm," she responded.

"Oh." David looked slightly taken aback. "So you're dating, then?"

Sheldon laughed. _Ricci does not understand the seriousness of our association,_ he thought with some relief. Amy did not laugh, however. She turned to face him again with an odd look, then crossed her arms and turned her focus towards the opposite wall. It looked to Sheldon like she was attempting to swallow a large piece of food, her throat kept moving. Strange. He hoped she wouldn't require the heimlich. He'd have to pinch her nose and nearly break her ribs and then lean down and...

The octopus poked him. _Go away_, he thought with a ferocity that startled him.

"We're not dating," Amy said flatly, still gazing towards the opposite wall. David looked at Amy for a second more, then finished his drink and turned to look at Sheldon again. David wasn't smiling anymore. "Amy's done extraordinary work with Fred," he said, looking directly at Sheldon.

Sheldon shrugged. _Of course she has_, he thought to himself. _More than you could hope to accomplish in your lifetime, I'm sure._

Amy half-smiled at David the Inestimable Moron. "He's well on his way to emphysema. You know he's also exhibiting symptoms of..."

Sheldon felt himself growing agitated beyond reason watching the two of them prattle on. It was like listening to Penny talking on the phone. No, it was worse than that. He wanted to go home and play Counterfactuals while they still had the time.

He poked Amy three times on the shoulder. "Amy."

Amy turned abruptly. "What, Sheldon?" She asked.

He opened his mouth to respond, but was distracted by something catching light around Amy's eyes. He realized that from this distance he could see that a thin black line ran from her iris to the outer corner of her eyelid. There was some shiny gold dust on top of it. He swallowed.

"Yes?"

"I..." Sheldon's mind blanked. "I need to use the facilities," he heard himself say.

"Noted," Amy said, nodding.

Sheldon clamored out of his chair with as much dignity as he could muster, studiously avoiding David the Destroyer's gaze.

What in Spock's name was wrong with him? He thought, striding quickly away from table. He didn't actually need to use the facilities-_who would want to touch that vile door handle when it was not absolutely necessary_-but he couldn't go back to the table right now. Perhaps David even with his limited intellect would deduct that he was having some sort of…system disruption.

In his mind he saw Dr. Beverly Hofstadter smirking at him with the tip of her glasses against her lips_._ He stopped walking and took a deep breath; closing his eyes and crossing his arms very tightly over his chest. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed a bartender cleaning a glass on the other side of the room.

Sheldon took one more deep breath, considering, then began walking in the direction of the bar. _Are you sure you want to do this? _His mental Beverly asked._ You have a tendency to disrobe yourself publicly while intoxicated._

Sheldon cleared his throat once he reached the station. "Barkeep," he said loudly. The older woman looked wearily his way. "I would like an alcoholic beverage."

She turned around fully to face him. "What kind?"

"The potent kind." She nodded, at which point he added, "but put delectable potions like pineapple juice in it, as well."

She nodded again with a bemused expression and began making his drink. He took a seat, remaining silent for only a moment. "How can women find satisfaction in interacting with men of such limited intellect?" he asked her pointedly.

The woman continued mixing the concoction without looking up. Sheldon continued to stare at her until the woman sighed and gave up. "Girlfriend trouble?" she asked.

"Absolutely not," Sheldon responded, startled. "She is a girl, who is my friend, but who is not my 'girlfriend,' forgive the air quotes—"

"Let me guess," the woman broke in, "you want her to be your girlfriend?"

"No," Sheldon said emphatically. Then he frowned. "I just want her to never be within a five foot radius of Italian monkey-training Woodstock-hippies. Though," Sheldon conceded, "I guess more accurately I wish that he'd be fired from her lab or be the unfortunate victim of a communicable simian disease."

The woman raised her eyebrows as she placed the drink in front of him; he made short order of it with a straw. "Another if you please?" he asked, pushing the empty glass towards her. She pursed her lips, but got a new glass and began mixing again.

"Well," the woman said finally, while arranging four cherries in the glass, "sounds like a girlfriend to me."

_The nerve of this woman!_ "Excuse me—" He stopped abruptly once she placed the second drink in front of him. She turned around to retrieve a napkin and when she turned to face him again realized the second drink was nearly gone, as well. Sheldon was now leaning his chin on his folded hands and staring off into space.

The bartender sighed. "Why don't you just try to spend more time with her?"

"We spend an abundance time together already," he muttered without looking at her.

"OK..." The bartender was quiet a moment, then asked, "does she know how you feel about the monkey guy?"

"Not yet, but I plan on making my opinion known after tonight."

"Don't tell her."

"What?" Sheldon asked, turning to look up at her.

"Don't complain about the monkey-trainer. It'll just make you look like a small man."

"Really." Sheldon's full attention was focused on the bartender now. "Why would that be? Especially considering this man is literally a small man."

She shrugged. "It'll just make you seem..." she waved her hand a little bit, "insecure, or something. You'll look like a jerk."

Sheldon bristled at her comment. "When I have opinions, they're usually right," Sheldon responded. "And furthermore, they're the result of rational observation, not...whatever irrational motive you're ascribing to me," he glanced towards the bartender, who was smirking a little. _Was she laughing at him?_ "What do you know, anyway?" he asked her sharply. "You're just some bar wench, or event-wench."

The bartender's expression darkened. "Have an enjoyable evening, sir," the woman snapped, turning away from him.

"Wait," Sheldon said a tad frantically when she turned her back to him. The woman turned around again with her hand on her hip, glaring at him. "I'm..." he paused, thinking. "I'm sorry," he said experimentally. She didn't respond. _Is she still angry? Hard to tell._

"Madam Barkeep, can you explain to me why would I look like a 'jerk'? If he's indeed a menace, one would assume it's better for her to be informed." The woman continued to stare at him without answering. Sheldon inhaled. "Is there some sort of social custom I've failed to observe in our interaction? It's a common occurrence."

The woman laughed suddenly. "I'll bet it is."

"I'm too evolved to pick up on the more nuanced homo sapien social convent," he hiccupped, "convent-shuns." He nodded to himself.

"I'll bet you are." The bartender looked at him again, considering. "If you want her to completely forget about this other guy, you need to be nice."

"What? What do you mean, be nice? I regard her as my intellectual equal; that's better than 'nice.'"

The bartender shrugged. "Well...you can do what you want. You asked me for advice; I gave you some."

Sheldon attempted to level a piercing gaze at her, but his eye kept blinking.

"Make sure to tell her that dress looks pretty, too." The bartender added. "Oh, and talk about things that are important to her."

"But I find that many of the things that are important to her are trivial to me...or at least much less interesting than things that are important to me."

The bartender regarded him with incredulity. "Surely she's heard a lot of 'trivial' talk from you; you probably owe her some listening time."

"Nonsense," he scoffed, nearly falling off of his stool in the process of waving his arm for emphasis. The bartender's withering stare returned as he regained his balance. Sheldon noticed that she was starting to look more and more like his mother in his slightly blurred vision. "I'll ask her about her monkeys," he mumbled. The bartender looked on at him approvingly.

Sheldon knew he needed to make his way back to the table - it had already been too long. "Thank you for you the nuggets of tavern wisdom," he told the bartender. "You are most certainly the toast of your profession—pardon the pun." He giggled, then his eyes widened and he looked down. _Pants are still there, _he thought with some relief.

The bartender half-smiled at that as Sheldon sucked down the last of his drink and smacked his palm on the table. "Live long and prosper, Barkeep," he said solemnly, clumsily shoving dollar bills into the tip jar.

Leaving her with the Vulcan salute and another hiccup, he turned on his heel and marched purposefully back towards his table.

Arriving back at the table annoyed him, as David the Ignoramus was still there. _I wonder if the M.O.N.T.E. robot could be restored._ He shook his head then. _No matter_. "Amy Farrah Fowler," he said in a clear voice.

Amy turned to face him rigidly. "Yes, Sheldon?

"I need to speak with you about something." _We're going to talk about your black-lunged monkey._

She nodded curtly. "I'm listening."

Sheldon pursed his lips and glanced at David. _That hippie will not be privy to this discussion_. "It is confidential and we cannot speak of it in the presence of Muggles." Amy was silent for a moment, then shrugged and said something to David while rising from the table to meet Sheldon.

Sheldon jerked his head in the direction of a dining room that was currently unoccupied and together they left the main ballroom.

The din of the fundraiser gradually died down until they were facing each other, completely alone in the quiet, semi-darkness of the adjoining room.

"OK Sheldon," Amy said, crossing her arms, "you have my full attention and I assume we're currently in a 'Muggle-free' space."

Sheldon didn't hear her; he was distracted by the foreign smell that emanated from her neck. It was unusual, but not unpleasant. Floral, he supposed. _Actually, it smells sort of...nice_. The octopus tapped his abdomen.

"Sheldon!" Amy snapped at him, pushing her glasses up her nose. _Her hands have an elegant and utilitarian shape. _ "Your behavior has been off-putting and frankly bizarre the entire evening - what is the matter with you?"

He was currently wondering the same thing - in the past minute or so his heart rate had doubled and his mouth felt dry. _Was he beginning to succumb to the malaria?_ "I think-" Sheldon was shocked at how thin his voice sounded. He swallowed around the lump in his throat to try again.

"I can't hear you," she huffed. She adjusted her position so that she was closer to him, putting her hair behind one ear and craning her head up closer to his mouth. Looking at her ear framed by her hair, he felt the tips of his own ears to go numb.

He swallowed, leaning his mouth closer. The smell he'd detected before was a lot stronger now. He closed his eyes and the octopus came alive, so much so that he gasped very softly. He heard her inhale sharply in response and felt paralyzed _she'd heard him _but her ear was still in front of him _was it getting closer? _In the next moment he felt the oddest sensation of smooth, warm ridges against his mouth. _He was kissing her ear, _he realized. His lips parted in surprise at this revelation, causing Amy to gasp softly once again. _The movement of your mouth was impetus of that sound. _He leaned a fraction of an inch closer-

"Yeah, buddy!" Someone shouted from the entrance to the room.

It was as if icy cold water had been dumped on Sheldon's face.

* * *

**To be continued**


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's notes**: Thanks again to Lionne6, who, I must reiterate, is a terrific editor. (Have you read "The Harp String Complexities" yet? Do it!) Also, thank you SO MUCH to everyone has reviewed so far - it makes me :D

**Chapter warnings**: some angst, and just to remind y'all, it's a little AU

* * *

Sheldon leaped backwards frantically. _Oh lord, what did I do?! _ He looked wildly around for their intruder, who seemed to have disappeared back into the pit of hell that he came from.

He looked at Amy then, who was staring back at him with wide eyes. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and he noticed that her hair was still tucked behind her ear on the right side.

_It's not an octopus; it's a face-hugging alien_, he thought with sudden despair. It was growing and expanding in his chest; he could feel it everywhere. Delicately he placed his hand against his sternum.

Amy cleared her throat, startling him. "That was unusual," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

"Yes," he said distractedly, unable to process the directions that his mind was going. "Amy, could we-"

"Of course," she interjected. "Momentary lapses are to be expected - I've experienced one myself. Remember when I made plans to proposition coitus to Zack." Sheldon suddenly wished swift decapitation by lightsaber on Zack.

"It will be as though this...never happened," Amy assured him. Sheldon nodded at her, wondering why he felt sick. "So," Amy said, breaking the short silence, "shall we make our way back to our table?"

As they made their way back, Sheldon reflected on his worsening condition. Something still didn't feel right. He supposed he was still reeling from the shock of having his mouth on Amy's ear. Ears, after all, are repulsive wax and bacteria receptacles. He repeated this to himself until they arrived back at their table.

David welcomed them back cautiously and asked Amy what she would like to drink from the bar. "Something with pineapple," she responded, then her eyes widened. Sheldon's octopus quivered.

* * *

In the shower the next morning Sheldon was scrubbing shampoo into his hair with more than his normal diligence. When his arms began to hurt from the strain of holding them up, he stepped under the spray and closed his eyes, moaning softly in appreciation under the hot water. _Amy, gasping_. His eyes shot open and soap immediately filled them.

"Ow!" he yelped, turning his face into the water and coughing and gagging as the shower spray went up his nose and into his mouth. _I haven't cleaned the shower head in months; it's filthy_, he thought with an edge of panic.

Not nearly as filthy as the ear of another human being, an internal voice reminded him.

"Oh shut up," Sheldon snapped out loud, startling at the sound of his own voice. He looked around quickly and then continued washing his hair.

_You're not crazy, _he assured himself as he squeezed conditioner into his hand, y_our mother had you tested._

* * *

knock knock knock "Sheldon and Leonard."

knock knock knock "Sheldon and Leonard."

Sheldon swung the door open just as Penny raised her hand for the third knock. She grinned at his stern glare.

"What's your wifi password again?" she asked, balancing her computer on one forearm.

Sheldon sighed. "It's PennyIsAMoooching-" he stopped speaking abruptly, looking past her at the far wall.

"...Penny is a-mooching? Is there a dash in there somewhere?"

Sheldon did not answer - his brow was creased in concentration as he continued to focus on something she could not see.

Penny looked around, then shrugged. "So...no dash?"

Leonard came to the door. "It's PennyIsAMoochingTroll, all one word...sorry." He shot a reproving look at Sheldon, who did not notice.

Penny inclined her head towards the seemingly catatonic train enthusiast. "Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he was," Leonard said, turning to scrutinizing Sheldon's expression carefully. He turned back to Penny and shrugged. "Maybe someone fed him after midnight."

Sheldon walked away from the door, still lost in thought.

"So is Spock giving him commandments again?" Penny asked dryly.

"You laugh," Leonard warned her, "but one day Spock's going to tell him the Enterprise is in danger and his mission is to eliminate all of the lesser life forms-"

"Amy!" Sheldon exclaimed from across the room.

"Oh damn, the hallucinations are for real this time," Leonard mumbled.

Sheldon pointed at Penny. "That's who you smell like," he said with a note of triumph.

At their startled looks, Sheldon assumed a more defensive posture.

Leonard turned to Penny. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

Penny shrugged, but then snapped her fingers. "Oh oh oh - Amy borrowed my perfume for her thing last Saturday." She stopped a moment, considering. Then she grinned. "She didn't have much on - you'd had to have been pret-tee close to notice."

Sheldon regarded her with a deer-in-headlights look before his face darkened. "Go engage a different neighbor in coitus so that you may piggyback on his wi-fi instead of ours," he snapped, stomping out of the living room.

* * *

Later that night, Leonard was mumbling to himself continuously in the living room as he buttoned up a jacket and grabbed his keys off of his desk.

"Going out?" Sheldon asked without looking up from his computer.

"Yeah, Penny and I are getting ice cream. And by 'getting ice cream,' I mean Penny will be getting ice cream and I'll be jealous but terrified of what it will do to me if I try hers."

"Will you be gone long?"

"I don't know...I mean, we could go around the corner, but Penny insists that the ice cream next to the university is made from some magical formula that keeps you from retaining the calories." He shook his head. "I told her to regard that claim with a healthy amount of skepticism and she told me that I can't even eat ice cream without it turning into napalm in my stomach so what do I know..." he shrugged, zipping up the pocket where he put his phone.

Sheldon did not comment on the merits of Penny's ice cream hypothesis, but gave him a flick of the wrist to acknowledge his departure. Leonard closed the door. From inside their apartment, Sheldon heard Penny's voice mingle with Leonard's until both of them faded completely.

Quickly, Sheldon jumped up and strode out of his apartment to Penny's door. Looking around furtively, he slipped his credit card between the door and the frame, opening it with ease. _ Really, she needs to get that fixed_, he thought to himself_. _

He closed the door quietly behind him, turning on lights and then tip-toeing into her bathroom. He balked at the clutter amassed on nearly every inch of the counter, but finally spotted three bottles of what looked like perfume. He lifted one up carefully, took a sniff, then put it down. He lifted the second one up, repeated this procedure, then put it down, also. When he smelled the third one, he let out a small gasp. _Oh dear lord that smells good..._ Looking around one last time, he got his hanky out of his pocket and spritzed the perfume on it quickly.

His heart was pounding as he turned out the lights and relocked her apartment door as calmly as he could. Once he was in the hallway, he sprinted back into his apartment and then into his bedroom, slamming and dead-bolting both doors behind him.

Alone in his room, he commenced his nighttime routine of looking under his bed and in his closets, finding all to be satisfactorily empty. Once this task was completed, he sat carefully in the middle of his bed and pulled his hanky out of his pocket.

Looking at it, he suddenly became preoccupied with the thought of possible toothpaste residue on the bathroom mirror and finally got up to check, hiding the hanky under his pillow. When he returned to his room, he completed his nightly rounds once more, then at last pulled the hanky out from under his pillow, staring at it. He closed his eyes and held it up to his nose.

_Good God man, what are you doing? _

He opened his eyes. This had to stop.

He threw the hanky into the trash and retrieved his bus pants from the closet. He changed efficiently and grabbed his keys and his wallet, straightening out his comforter before he left. Right as his hand was on the door of his bedroom, he turned around with a groan of frustration and fished the hanky out of his clean trash can with tweezers, placing it behind his 1975 mint-in-box Batman figurine.

_You need to figure out what's wrong with you_, he thought to himself, pacing in front of the bus stop. _Perhaps it's some sort of chemical imbalance._

_A mutant strain of malaria isn't ruled out yet, though_, he reasoned as he gingerly ascended the bus stairs, touching as little as humanly possible to pay his fare.

He used the ridges in his keys to pull the bus line indicating a stop and then hopped off and strode quickly towards the front door of Amy's apartment complex. _Even if it is super-malaria, that was no reason to let the symptoms run rampant. Could be fatal. You're crazy to have ignored it this long._

He got into the empty elevator and pressed the button for Amy's floor. _Why are you here, again? _his rational voice queried as he walked down the hallway towards her unit.

He swallowed and raised his hand to knock. _To get a second opinion._

* * *

knock knock knock "Amy."

knock knock knock "Amy."

knock knock knock "Amy."

"Sheldon." Amy said with surprise as she opened her door.

Sheldon immediately looked down and began wringing his hands in an intricate, deliberate pattern. "I think have a problem," he said without looking up.

"What do you mean? What kind of problem?" Amy asked.

"Honestly I-" Sheldon swallowed, increasing the pace of his hand-wringing, "I haven't told anyone about it and I'm really, really concerned that I've ignored it too long and-" _This is a mistake, she's not the right person to ask about thi-_

"Sheldon," Amy interrupted him, "statistically speaking and especially with your history, it's probably something minor or, more likely, psychosomatic..."

Sheldon felt a growing panic listening to what he had to concede was logical reasoning. _But it's _different_ this time - there's something horribly wrong! Listen to me! You're not-_

"...I'll make you a hot beverage inside and we'll discuss your symptoms and see what we can deduce," Amy finished.

His mental tirade paused itself, and he looked up at her.

"If our conversation does not ease your mind, I'll schedule you for lab work first thing in the morning at the university." She belatedly added a half-smile.

_None of my friends have ever offered to make a doctor's appointment for me before, _Sheldon thought. He felt inexplicably close to tears.

"Does this sound agreeable to you?" Amy continued to gaze at him calmly with her slightly hunched posture, pushing one piece of hair behind her ear.

In the next moment, Sheldon had grabbed her face and pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her with an inexpert neediness. He whimpered as he felt her inhale sharply against his mouth. _That sound again. Oh, lord._ His arms wrapped around her more tightly as he felt her fingers curling at the base of his neck. They stumbled forward across her threshold until a loud _crack_ caused Sheldon to leap away from her.

"Ow," Amy muttered, touching the back of her head lightly. They'd run into the door.

"I'm sorry," Sheldon blurted out, feeling faint and disoriented. "I didn't bring my first aid kit with me."

"No first aid required." Amy took a deep breath and leaned against the door frame. "Hoo," she exhaled, and immediately her expression froze.

Sheldon felt something snap inside of him.

"I have to go," he said abruptly, wiping his mouth and turning on his heel to leave.

He was halfway down the hall before he heard, "Sheldon Cooper!"

He whipped around. "What?" he asked, unable to conceal the hysteria he felt in his tone.

"What?" Amy repeated incredulously. "Sheldon, I believe you owe me some sort of explanation for your…" she gestured between them, "behavior."

Sheldon, for once in his life, could not think of anything to say.

"What exactly are you trying to accomplish by all this?" she asked.

At his continued silence, she huffed in frustration, "What is it that you _want_?"

"'What do I want?'" Sheldon found that he could speak again. "You are fully aware of all of the things I want. I want to win a Nobel Prize, I want to clone Leonard Nimoy, I want bowel movements that are as regular as German trains-"

"No," Amy snapped. Then she looked down at the floor and crossed her arms. "You know that's not the context of my question. What do you want," she stopped herself, and her posture became even more hunched. "What do you want with me?" she asked, looking at him directly now.

At that moment, Sheldon wanted to scream and then disappear through the floor. He swallowed and said out loud, "I want us to behave as though the past few weeks never occurred."

She was a silent a moment. "Really?" she asked finally, her voice oddly monotone.

Something felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on what. "Yes," he said.

"You're specifically referring to our physical interactions?"

"Yes," he repeated, feeling a twinge in his chest.

"You want to pretend as if those never occurred?"

Sheldon nodded, something decidedly unpleasant occurring in his stomach now.

"And never wish to engage in them again?"

Sheldon hesitated a moment. "Correct," he said hoarsely. _Now things can be normal._

Amy's mouth was contorting itself into strange shapes. "Then please don't contact me by text, Skype, or through any other means anymore," she said.

"What?" He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"Your hearing is fine and I expressed my wishes clearly." She turned around and walked back into her apartment, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Sheldon was left standing in the hall by himself. The octopus was gone - in fact, it felt like the rest of his insides were gone with it. He eventually caught his bus back to Los Robles, seeing nothing the whole way home.

* * *

**to be continued**


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes**: Thank you as always to Lionne6, and to everyone who has reviewed so far - for those of you who review as guests, I'm sorry that I can't write you back, but know that I am grateful.

**Chapter Warnings**: angst. The standing AU warning still applies, and there are a couple instances of bad language.

Hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

The next morning Sheldon woke up with an uneasy feeling. He looked at his phone, expecting to see a text message from Amy explaining what she'd meant. Perhaps she'd eaten some bad salad, or maybe she'd been hungry.

But there was nothing. He looked at his clock; she would definitely be awake by now. It was past time for their pre-breakfast text messages.

His uneasiness grew while he was at work. He sent her a text asking her if she'd meet him in the cafeteria for lunch, but as had been the case all day, she did not respond. He wondered then if her phone had run out its battery - it'd explain the total lack of communication. After all, she'd have to divulge the reasoning behind her decision to put a moratorium on their communications at some point. And then Sheldon could point out how illogical and misguided her plan was, and normal communications could resume.

Lunch stretched into evening with no word from her. He saw her chat icon on Facebook, and promptly sent her a message asking her to text to him. She did not respond, even though he saw that she'd read the message.

On the ride home he reflected more seriously on the possible reasons for her abrupt communications interruption. Apparently she'd meant what she said completely literally.

* * *

By bedtime that night, Amy had still not contacted him. _Perhaps she needs to sleep on it,_ he thought. As he leaned over to turn off his bedside lamp, a yellow mug on his dresser caught his eye. It read "Murphy's 10 Laws for String Theorists."

"_I refute the existence of these supposed 'laws,'" he told Amy flatly._

"_The mug will serve mainly as a receptacle for tea or Yoohoo; I see no possible way in which the accuracy or inaccuracy of the laws printed on it could affect its capacity as such." _

_Sheldon pursed his lips and nodded, conceding her point._

_"Happy Birthday," Amy added, half-smiling._

Sheldon stared at the mug another moment._ She'll text me tomorrow,_ he thought, turning off the light.

* * *

The next day passed much the same way - every time his phone buzzed he'd eagerly snatch it up, only to find that it was a Twitter update or a text alert from a publication. She hadn't spoken to him in thirty-six hours and ten minutes. Eleven minutes.

Instead of appreciating this radio silence, he found himself more anxious than yesterday. The anxiousness culminated in leaving work an hour earlier than usual because of a productivity deficit.

_She'll apologize soon and explain her actions_, he told himself as he checked his mailbox. This couldn't go on forever - who was she going to compare dry cleaners with?

He was deep enough into this analysis that he did not notice the figure at the top of the stairs as he rounded the corner; their collision was strong enough to knock the other person over. "Well, excuse y-" Sheldon froze as he realized the person he ran into was one Amy Farrah Fowler. She was scrambling on the ground to pick the contents of her bag. Sheldon knelt to the ground carefully and picked up her wallet, holding it out for her. When she grabbed it, he saw a glimpse of her face even though it was mostly covered by her hair. Her cheeks and neck were blotchy and red, like she'd been exercising or was ill.

"Amy?" Sheldon asked. Amy looked up in surprise for a second and Sheldon was shocked to see that her eyes were red and her chin was trembling, as well. She'd been crying.

Sheldon stared after her as she ducked her head down and quickly descended the stairs, disappearing from view. When he looked up, an angry Penny was staring back at him. "What in the hell is wrong with you?" she asked him sharply.

"Me?" Sheldon felt exhausted. "What are you talking about?"

Penny opened her mouth, but then stopped herself. "Get in here," she said finally, pointing to him, then stabbing towards the inside of her apartment.

Sheldon rolled his eyes, walking towards his own unit. "I will be doing nothing of the sort," he said over his shoulder as he unlocked his door.

Penny raised her eyebrows and put her hand on her hip. "I swear to God Sheldon, if you don't get in my apartment right now I will take all of my dirtiest socks and hide them in-"

"Ok, ok," he snapped, turning around to face her again. "Good lord, what happened to being neighborly?" He grumbled, walking past her into her apartment.

When Sheldon was seated on the couch, she closed the door and sighed, then turned to face him with her hands clasped together. "Ok Sheldon, if you were anyone else, literally anyone else on earth, I'd start out by telling you what a douchebag you are for what you said to Amy. But since you were probably hatched or something, we'll start out easy. Do you know why Amy is upset?"

He really didn't. "No, not precisely," he conceded.

"Ok," Penny said. "Did you or did you not tell Amy that you were grossed out by all of the kissing stuff that _you_ initiated, by the way, and that you wanted to pretend like it didn't happen?"

"I did not say I was 'grossed out,'" he retorted.

Penny held a hand up. "Fine, but you did say that you wanted to 'pretend as if it didn't happen,' right?"

"Yes," Sheldon responded matter-of-factly.

"Jesus Christ, Sheldon."

Sheldon threw up his arms in frustration. "What?"

"That was the worst thing you could possibly have said to her, how could you-"

"OH lord," Sheldon groaned, cutting her off. "You clearly don't understand the situation. You see, Amy and I have a meeting of the minds on this particular subject," he paused and folded his hands together in his lap. "Every time a folly of this sort has occurred, she's been quick to normalize our relations. What I said is part of a well-established social procedure between us. I want to know the actual reason for her abrupt communications blackout; has she told you?" Sheldon looked towards Penny expectantly.

"That is the reason, Sheldon!" Penny exploded.

He was silent for a moment. "You must have misunderstood her," Sheldon responded finally. His face felt hot.

"I just listened to her for like, an hour. She actually found kissing you an enjoyable experience, don't ask me why," Penny said, shooting him a glare.

The octopus unexpectedly gave Sheldon a poke. "She enjoyed that?" he asked.

"Yes. And she was mortified that you apparently didn't feel the same way," Penny added, watching his face closely.

Sheldon sat back on the couch, considering. Then he shook his head.

"You must have misunderstood her. Forgive my repetition, but that particular matter is settled between us."

"God, I forgot how much attempting to explain anything normal to you sucks," Penny said, exasperated. She got up and walked over to her refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of white wine. "She told me that she realized that she wants the boyfriend/girlfriend thing with you. Period. If you don't want that, she can't hang out with you anymore," she said as she poured herself a full glass.

Sheldon was feeling increasingly uneasy. "She said those exact words?" he asked her skeptically. "You have a tendency to incorrectly quote nearly everything you hear, despite your supposed acting chops."

Penny rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she replied snarkily as she recorked the wine. "I'm pretty sure I understood. I kept asking if we were talking about the same Sheldon."

Sheldon ignored her jab. "And that's why she ceased communications with me, because she was upset that I didn't seek an adjustment of our status following our latest...error?"

"Yep." Penny took a sip from her glass and leaned against the sink. "Most people would've gotten the hint," she added.

Sheldon felt profoundly confused. "So either we enter into this senseless social classification, or else she wants a complete cessation of contact?" He couldn't believe that would be the case - didn't she enjoy talking to him?

Penny nodded.

"We've discussed this often," Sheldon was talking mostly to himself now, "we agreed that romantic relationships are ridiculous institutions. Even if she's changed her mind, which I still highly doubt, I...I haven't." Belatedly, he hit his hand against the couch cushion for emphasis.

Penny rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, whatever you say," she groused. She looked directly at his face then, and her expression softened. "Sheldon, relationships are a lot of compromise." She took a big gulp of wine this time. "And newsflash: compromise sucks. You might have to compromise on how your relationship works and what you call it, and you won't like it at first. But may I just say that I think it's total bullshit that you don't ever want to make out with Amy again."

Sheldon was rocking slightly back and forth on the couch cushion, fully distressed now. "Why would she prefer some generic arrangement incorporating unhygienic acts over our current association of the mind? I thought we were in accord on this point." His tone was close to pleading.

Penny smiled at him for the first time since he'd walked in. "Because relationships are worth it if you're with the right person, sweetie. I promise." She pursed her lips. "In your case we're looking at this being like, the only person."

Sheldon looked down at the table, his finger beginning to draw a periodic table. "I doubt that some hackneyed breeding vehicle is more fulfilling than our current association." Sheldon's voice did not sound as strong as he would have liked.

Penny shrugged, and took another sip of her wine.

* * *

_One week later_

Sheldon waited in line at the dry cleaners, itching to give the attendant a piece of his mind. His pants, after all, were ruined.

When it was Sheldon's turn, he laid his pants dramatically across the entire surface of the counter. "Do you see this?" he said pointing to an area above the right knee.

"Ummm...no sir," the young girl behind the counter said, leaning down low to look at the area he was pointing at.

Sheldon shook his head. "Precisely what I thought. If you, in your infinite-" he looked up suddenly.

The clerk behind the counter looked up as well out of confusion. One of the silly songs Amy often played on the harp was playing out of the ceiling speaker.

"Just," Sheldon waived his arm, "just fix it, or I will eviscerate your business on Yelp," he said hastily, leaving the store with young attendant calling after him.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

Sheldon rubbed his eyes and looked at his clock. It read 5:50 a.m. _Doctor Who starts in ten minutes_, he realized. He jumped up, put on his robe and and prepared his breakfast with more speed than he would have preferred.

Saturday morning routine completed in record time, he sat down and turned on the BBC. It was an older episode, one of his favorites from the second season. _Excellent_, he thought with contentment.

Ten minutes into the show, he picked up his iPad to check his mail. Quickly he put it down, then leaned back on the couch again, catching up on what he'd missed. After another five minutes or so he picked up the tablet again to check his Twitter account, scrolling through his feed. After he realized he'd been on it five minutes he placed his iPad on the farthest couch cushion and turned his attention back to the screen.

_You're bored_, he realized. He feebly tried to refute this hypothesis, but he could not convince himself otherwise.

As a last resort, he employed his _kolinahr_ breathing techniques to focus on the episode, but he already knew what was going to happen, and, for once, did not care to see the plot resolve itself for a third time.

He took a sip of hot chocolate out of the Murphy's Law mug, deeply unsettled.

* * *

_Three weeks later_

"You said you were going to have this done for me yesterday," Kripke said, leaning over Sheldon's desk in his office.

"Well, it's not," Sheldon replied, rubbing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "I suppose you'll have to wait a few more days to insert your drivel into this proposal." He shrugged.

Kripke stared at him a second. "You need to get it together, Cooper. We're not losing this grant proposal because you decided to turn into some emo teenager. Go read The Perks of Being a Wallflower and get it out of your system." He marched out of the office and shut the door behind him.

Sheldon rolled his eyes, too tired to reply.

* * *

_Four weeks later (11:30 pm)_

Sheldon sat down at his desk and logged onto Facebook to check Amy's profile. It had become a twice-daily habit, even though he'd stopped trying to message her. He noted that it'd been three days since Ricci had written on her Facebook wall, though he wasn't sure whether or not she'd written on his. _Stupid privacy controls - like anyone is clamoring to get information on him_.

He realized with a jolt that new pictures of her had been posted by someone he didn't know. He clicked on the album and immediately recognized the faces in the first few photos as the ones from Ricci's profile picture; apparently the entire lab had gone on some sort of social outing together. He clicked until he found one that Amy was tagged in, though he couldn't see her initially. He finally spotted her in the background - she was seated next to Ricci at a long wooden table. They seemed engrossed in conversation and oblivious that their association was being digitally captured. Looking at it, Sheldon heard a ringing begin in his ears.

The next picture was a full group shot. In it, Ricci was standing next to Amy. _Was her arm around him?_ He looked at the picture from many different angles, but from where everyone was positioned it was hard to tell. It wouldn't be unlikely, though - some of the others had their arms around each other. He continued to stare at the photo, looking for any other clue as to the extent of their physical contact.

_I hate Ricci,_ he realized.

With a shaking hand, he pulled out his supplemental list of worst enemies and began writing D-A-V- at the bottom of the piece of paper. He was pressing the pencil against the desk so hard that the lead snapped after the last "D," causing Sheldon to throw the pencil down in frustration. In the process, his hand sent Amy's gift clattering loudly across his desk, spilling the remnants of his tea on his list.

"I hate you, too!" He screamed at at the upended mug, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

It was too late to retract his outburst, though. Leonard's bedroom door flew open and he rushed into the living room. "Sheldon, are you ok, what happened?" he asked frantically.

Sheldon took a deep breath and calmly let his hand drift down to join the other one on his desk. "Nothing," he replied. "I was..." Sheldon's mind blanked. "I was playing World of Warcraft," he heard himself say.

Leonard's eyes darted to the computer, which was opened to Amy's Facebook photos. "...Okay," Leonard said after a brief pause. There was another awkward silence. "Well, night then," Leonard mumbled at the ground, quickly walking back to his room and shutting the door.

Sheldon swallowed and got out of his seat, forgetting to shut his computer down. He walked into his room and shut the door, then mechanically began to change for bed. He nearly fainted when he realized he put on Friday's pajamas when it was only Thursday. Quickly he corrected the error, refolded his clothes, and climbed under the covers. He stared upwards at the ceiling, feeling himself fade quickly.

_I'm losing my mind, _was his last conscious thought before sleep overtook him.

* * *

_Sheldon was with Amy at the science center; he was pointing out errors in the title cards next to the exhibits. A group of enthralled children gathered around as he explained exactly what was happening on a particle level whenever the quarter rolled down the well. These children were clearly promising students because no one spoke, and they all took notes._

_Everything was filtered through blue light. Amy smiled at him; the octopus was back. He grabbed her hand and they continued to walk through the exhibits. Amy was talking to him-_

* * *

Sheldon opened his eyes, a sleepy half smile on his lips. His happiness became fuzzy as he realized his arm was asleep and that the cold substance against his cheek was most likely saliva. "Ow," he muttered, rubbing his numb hand and shoulder against the bed. There was a whale of a crick in his neck, as well. _Had he strained it and forgotten?_ He could text Amy to find out. Sleepily reaching around his nightstand for his phone, reality hit him.

He did not go to the science center with Amy; he'd simply dreamed that he had done so.

This realization felt like a sack of bricks being laid slowly across his chest. He turned away from the nightstand and curled up on his side into as tight of a ball as he could make.

An hour later, still wide awake, he turned his head to look at the softly glowing clock display again: it was now 1:45 am.

He turned his gaze back towards the wall, completely still for a moment, then uncurled and got up, walking back into the living room to retrieve his computer. _This is going to take all night_.

* * *

**To be continued**


	6. Chapter 5

Sheldon, completely exhausted from his sleepless night, arrived back at his apartment around four thirty the next afternoon. His Friday had been rather unproductive, consisting mostly of dozing in his office in between attempts to contact Amy through various electronic means (to no avail). He checked Amy's Facebook page for the eighth time that day and noticed a new alert, namely that she was "checked in" at some tavern with five others. Investigating the source of the alert confirmed his suspicion: Ricci was checked in, as well. This thought erased his fatigue and motivated a quick wardrobe change into his bus pants.

Swiping his messenger bag and keys off of his desk, he failed to notice Leonard entering the apartment and nearly flattened him on his way out the door.

"Where's the fire?" Leonard called after him. "No fire, Leonard," Sheldon yelled in the direction of the apartment as he descended the stairs. He _wished_ this were only a fire - he'd devised at least three plans responsive to that type of emergency, while he'd made precisely zero for this one.

He made it to the bus stop in record time, pacing in front of the bench as he waited for the correct line. _Is there a strike_? He thought after a few minutes, pausing to glance at his phone clock. The man seated on the bus stop bench glared as Sheldon resumed his frenetic ambulation, but Dr. Cooper per usual failed to notice. Finally his bus arrived and he said a quick thanks be to the Deity Whose Existence He Doubted that his preferred seat was available.

His dubious gratefulness was short-lived, however: the bus was maneuvering through five o'clock traffic without any degree of alacrity._ Is the driver purposefully finding red lights at which to stop? _Sheldon thought as they waited at their fourth red light in about as many minutes. _ Surely he must be aware that riders of this bus have important errands_. He checked Apple maps again for the third time since he'd sat down - the arrow had barely moved. _Rats. _

After another fifteen minutes of maddening stop-start traffic, Sheldon opened his window to encourage a pedestrian to move with greater speed over a crosswalk, provoking the ire of the suddenly-feisty bus driver. _Where was this spirit when he puttered his way through that congested on-ramp?_ Sheldon thought, annoyed. Seeing as how they were still a ways from his destination though, he apologized to the bus driver and employed _kolinahr_ breathing to maintain a calm demeanor for the remainder of the trip.

When the bus finally arrived at Sheldon's stop, he leaped out of his seat and ran to the front of the bus in order to be the first passenger off. He kept up this brisk pace for a block or so, after which he had to stop and put his hands behind his head to catch his breath. After six blocks he was sweating and panting, but Apple maps confirmed that he had arrived at the shopping center wherein the tavern was located. It wasn't hard to spot, what with the hoi polloi milling about outside the door.

After a terse conversation with a man who insisted on seeing his government issued ID, he pushed his way past the people congregated at the entrance and finally found himself in the guts of the bar. _Those horrible photos were taken here_, he realized. Long wooden tables lined the walls; the the bar itself was dim and loud.

_Where is she?_ He thought anxiously, stopping at each table to take an inventory of the faces. Finally, he spotted her at the table closest to what appeared to be an entrance to an outdoor patio. _And there's Ricci_, he thought with malice. They were seated next to each other and seemed to be conversing amicably. _ Just like that damned photo._

Sheldon squared his shoulders and strode purposefully up to the table.

"Amy Farrah Fowler." Sheldon spoke loudly to be heard over the din of bar chatter.

"Sheldon," Amy responded, sounding genuinely shocked to see him.

Her surprise did not register with Sheldon, however. "There is something that we need to discuss," he said, oblivious to the stares he was now drawing from the others at the table, Ricci included.

"Even if there was something I wished to speak with you about, now would not be the most convenient time for me," Amy replied flatly.

Sheldon glanced around the table. "You cannot possibly be that engrossed in the twaddle that I overheard," he responded.

At this comment, the other members of their group were now either staring angrily at him or sliding down in their seats, save for one blond girl who propped her chin on her hands and regarded the exchange with interest.

"Doctor Cooper," Ricci interjected, putting extra emphasis on 'Doctor,' "Amy said now is not a good time."

All eyes around the table widened, including Amy's. The blond girl began hiccupping loudly, but she riveted her attention back to Sheldon, eagerly awaiting his response.

Sheldon leveled a furious gaze at Ricci. "I don't believe I addressed you, you churlish little troll," he snapped.

This sent the hiccuping blond into a fit of cackles, startling everyone else. Ricci shot an angry glare her way. "'m sorry," the girl slurred. "You...you're a dick," she said, lifting her arm to point at Sheldon, but succeeded only in toppling over two pint-sized beers. Everyone else leaped back from the table in panic.

Amy got up from the table just as quickly and walked outside to the patio with Sheldon striding fast behind her to keep up.

Once they arrived at the outermost corner, Amy whipped around to face him. "The table is now in social chaos as a result of your disruption. Not to mention the effect that these shenanigans will have on interpersonal relationships between the lab staff-"

Sheldon vainly tried to listen to her grievances with him, but it was the first time he'd heard her voice in over a month, and he found himself on the edge of giddiness.

"I'm sorry," he said when she stopped talking. He was finding that apologizing was generally a socially appropriate response for any situation.

"'Sorry' is not sufficient," Amy said, turning to leave. Sheldon panicked.

"Wait, wait, Amy," he said, grabbing her shoulder lightly in an act of desperation. She turned around to face him with stricken expression.

Before Sheldon could speak, she blurted, "I waited for you to come after me, and you didn't. We therefore have nothing to discuss."

"What?" Sheldon asked, feeling like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "I made constant efforts to correspond with you; through Skype, and text messages, and Facebook messages, and you were the one who-"

"Penny informed me of your discussion with her," Amy interrupted him, her chin trembling. "You were made cognizant of my goals for our continued association at that time, and your behavior over this past month has made clear to me that you do not share them." She paused to rub her nose, then exhaled shakily. "I do miss our correspondence..."

Sheldon's heart leapt.

"But I determined that being in your digital or physical company with knowledge that you did not share my aims would be intolerable to me." She paused, looking down at the ground. "Perhaps I should have attempted to subvert my desires by maintaining normal communication until these...feelings dissipated. Or perhaps I should have told you myself instead of allowing Penny to act as an intermediary.

But the main reason I completely ignored all missives from you is because..." her mouth was making strange shapes now, "is because I had hoped that you would suffer greatly in my absence, and that your suffering would cause you would re-consider my de facto proposal and change your mind."

At this last admission she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. "I am frankly embarrassed now that I pursued this juvenile course of action," she whispered. She lifted a shaking hand to her face to wipe away some tears. "In fact, I'm truly sorry for it."

Sheldon had remained silent during Amy's confession to him, and remained so now, staring intently at her hunched and quiet figure.

Without adjusting his gaze, he reached into his bag and pulled out a laminated and bound document, nudging her arm with it. She opened her eyes and read the cover. It was titled "RELATIONSHIP AGREEMENT."

"I changed my mind," he said, his voice not as steady as he would have liked.

She stood staring at it a moment without moving. Finally she unclasped her arms from around her sides and held the document in her own hands, peeling back the cover to scan the table of contents. She used her thumb to flip through the pages slowly.

"You wrote this?" she asked in a low voice.

Sheldon nodded.

Amy was biting her lips now. "Am I correct in assuming that this means you're open to adding conventional romantic aspects to our relationship of the mind?"

Sheldon took a deep breath. _It's a pittance,_ an internal voice hissed at him. "Yes," he said out loud on the exhale.

"And by conventional," she said, looking at him directly now, "I mean dates, and anniversaries, and...and physical contact. Occasionally."

Sheldon nodded. "Those subjects are addressed in the Relationship Agreement."

"Do I get veto power over any of the provisions of this agreement?"

"Now hold on there..." he began, then with great restraint stopped himself. _This is compromise_, he realized. _Lord, what have I gotten myself into_... "You should read it first, then we'll negotiate," he muttered finally.

Amy nodded, a broad smile breaking through for the first time. He found himself suddenly not minding the idea of compromise so much.

"I suppose I should go back to my table," Amy said after a moment, looking towards the inside of the bar.

Sheldon checked his phone clock. "It is rather late and I need to get up early to watch Doctor Who."

Amy nodded, understanding. "I'll see you for contract negotiations, then," she said.

Sheldon nodded back. They both stood silent for a moment.

"I've missed you," Amy said suddenly.

A lump formed in Sheldon's throat. "Me too," he responded quietly.

They walked back into the bar together, leaving a wake of wide-eyed bar patrons who'd overheard their entire conversation.

* * *

They arrived back at the table to find everyone significantly more intoxicated than when they left. Ricci was speaking with great passion towards the woman seated to his right, who was leaning the entire weight of her head into her hand, and looked on the verge of closing her eyes. The blond who had knocked over the drinks was now asleep on the tabletop.

Amy retook her seat to Ricci's left and gave Sheldon a half-smile. He gave her a small wave, unable to help smiling a little himself. "Farewell for now, Amy Farrah Fowler," he said. As he was walking away from the group, he heard what was unmistakably Ricci's voice asking Amy, "Are you ok?"

That was all the incentive Sheldon needed to turn on his heel yell, "She's fantastic! Ask her about her most recent binding legal agreement." He strode quickly away before Ricci could respond.

* * *

**Epilogue**

**Article IV: Physical Contact**

Section (A)(1)(a): Kissing.

"Kissing," "Kiss," and all variations thereof shall be defined as the lips of one Sheldon Lee Cooper ("The Boyfriend") and/or Amy Farrah Fowler ("The Girlfriend") touching, or alternatively shall refer to the contact of any lip of any party with the lip or other facial feature of the other party occurring during 'Physical Experimentation,' henceforth referred to as "P.E." or "parameters." Lip and/or facial contact that occurs within parameters will heretofor be considered _prima facie_ proof of intent to kiss. Lip-to-face contact occurring outside of parameters is prohibited unless required by emergency situations.

Section (A)(1)(b): Massages

Shoulder rubs, back rubs, and foot rubs shall heretofor be considered "massage activity." "Massage activity" shall also include events in which the hands and/or feet of either party touch the hands, feet, back, neck, or shoulders of any other party with the intent to soothe muscles. All massage activity shall occur within P.E. Massage activity occurring in parameters shall be _prima facie_ proof of intent to soothe muscles.

Section (A)(2): Timing

All activities occurring during P.E. shall adhere to the following schedule:

Section (A)(2)(a) - Kissing shall not exceed a seven (7) minute maximum time frame, after which a five (5) minute recess must be called and the intent of the parties reassessed.

Section (A)(2)(b) - Massage activity shall not terminate less than ten (10) minutes from start and shall not exceed twenty (20) minutes without a recess. After a five (5) minute recess, the masseuse becomes the massagee and vice versa.

* * *

_Amy's POV_

Their first experimentation session was scheduled at 6:00 pm on Sunday at Amy's. Sheldon entered her apartment nervously, carrying a bulging messenger bag on his shoulder.

"What's in the bag?" asked Amy suspiciously.

"Mouthwash, toothbrush, toothpaste, first-aid kit—you can never be too careful when experimenting with new exercise—rain-on-tin-roof ambiance machine, and snacks." He paused and looked up at her bewildered expression. "Aren't you going to offer me a hot beverage?"

Amy sighed. "Would you prefer tea, hot cocoa… gin sling?" she asked dryly.

"I'll have no gin 'slung' my way, thank you."

"Whipped cream vodka with pineapple?" Amy asked.

Sheldon gave her a look of reproach that was tinged with self-consciousness.

"It oiled the gears pretty well before," she mumbled while digging in her cabinet for a coffee mug.

After placing his cup of lemon zinger tea on the coffee table, Amy sat facing him on the couch, slightly hunched over with her hands flat on her knees. Sheldon's posture was a mirror image of hers. They were silent like this for a few moments.

Amy pursed her lips. "So."

Sheldon did not dignify her attempt to break the ice with a response.

"How about we start out with a shoulder massage?" Amy suggested.

Sheldon's face lit up for a second, then he frowned. "You mean… we give them to each other and not ourselves."

"Correct."

"I don't know."

"It's more hygienic than exchanging fluids, which we've done on at least four or five separate occasions now." Amy paused. "And by the way, not one of those exchanges has resulted in you contracting any fatal or even inconvenient illnesses," she added.

"Yet," Sheldon muttered.

Amy shrugged, but let the comment go. "Pretend like it's your own hand," she advised.

"I'll be able to tell the difference."

"Perhaps that is true, but," she held her palms up, "we are scientists, Dr. Cooper. Prove it."

Sheldon gave her a petulant frown, but turned around to face the door. He felt the couch cushions shifting as Amy scooted closer to him. Feeling her movements without seeing her was making him feel edgy.

Finally he felt pressure on his shoulder and nearly leaped off the couch. "Calm down, Sheldon," he heard Amy say alarmingly close to his ear.

"I am calm!" He said with an edge of panic.

Amy scooted a tiny bit closer, and he felt the pressure on his shoulder increase sharply, then release.

"Oh, _Lord," _he blurted out.

Sheldon's mouth gradually went slack as she began kneading his shoulders in earnest. "Oh my goodness," he muttered.

His increasingly frequent invocations of the name of the Deity Whose Existence He Doubted made Amy work his back and shoulders as if her life depended on it.

"Oh my lord," he was moaning now, eyes closed and head was tilting back. Amy internally squealed. "Amy, what are you doing…" he murmured.

Sheldon continued to lean his head back until it encountered her shoulder, causing him to jump slightly, but the ministrations of her hands effectively blunted his "flight" reflex. _Now's the time, _Amy thought nervously.

"Sheldon," she began, shocked at how weak her voice sounded, "would you umm...consent to receiving a kiss at this moment?" she asked, hating how awkward the words sounded. He opened his eyes then. She felt his back and shoulders becoming stiffer underneath her hands, causing her to double her efforts.

After a moment, he closed his eyes again. "Okay," he said in a very quiet voice.

Amy swallowed, and began transitioning from rubbing his shoulders to scratching his scalp very lightly, concentrating on the area where his hair met his neck. Amy could feel goosebumps forming on his forearms. _Good, _she thought.

They were at a very awkward angle for a kiss, what with his head lightly against her right shoulder, but Sheldon startled easily and one tiny change could shatter the entire mood. She turned her head towards his, closing her eyes when she was close enough to his mouth that she wouldn't accidentally kiss his nose. Craning her neck the last few inches, she felt her lips touch his very lightly. He jumped slightly, and she feared that he would pull back from her.

But miraculously, he didn't. She continued rubbing his scalp with her fingernails lightly as she moved her lips gently against his. Internally, her squeal had escalated into full-scale shriek.

A second before she meant to break the kiss, she felt a hand very lightly touching the underside her jaw.

At this development, it was her who was suddenly rigid with surprise. His mouth was gone a moment later _no no no, not yet, the alarm hasn't gone off_ but in the next moment she could feel the cushions shifting underneath her until his lips met hers again. Without opening her eyes, she realized he'd turned to face her.

This realization caused her to exhale sharply into his mouth and couldn't help grabbing his shoulders to pull him closer, unable to contain her enthusiasm at this turn of events.

Soon she felt the the pads of his fingers lightly touching the area where her jaw met her ear again and covered his hand with hers, leaning her cheek into their joined palms-

_BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ_

Suddenly Amy was bereft. She opened her eyes, frustrated enough to curse Sheldon into the next universe, until she noticed his position. He was purposefully staring at the far wall with wide eyes and with his hands folded very deliberately across his lap. He was taking measured deep inhales and exhales, mumbling some nonsense about a character in his space movie.

_Good_, she thought with petty satisfaction - she was beginning to _hate_ that alarm.

* * *

_One month later_

_BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ_

Sheldon was holding Amy's face in his hands, kissing her deeply and forgetting completely to utilize all of the techniques he'd studied over the past couple of weeks.

_BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ_

With a huff of frustration, he reached between them without breaking the kiss to stab a button silencing the alarm.

Amy, however, interrupted their kiss to say, "you hit the "snooze" button."

"I-" the ocotopus was inhibiting Sheldon from grasping the underlying meaning of her words. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked down, trying to remember if he'd done just that.

"You did," Amy insisted, as he continued to stare down at the phone in confusion, "you pressed 'snooze.'"

"There's no way of knowing unless we wait another nine minutes-" Sheldon began.

"Not true," Amy interrupted him, shaking her head, "you pressed your finger very clearly; you did not slide your finger, which would have turned the alarm off. 'Snooze.'" She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

Internally, Sheldon sighed_. Fine, woman_. "Perhaps I...inadvertently hit the snooze button," Sheldon conceded carefully.

Amy continued to regard him skeptically. Sheldon felt himself withering under her scrutiny.

"Fascinating," Amy said finally, wearing a slightly smug expression.

* * *

_One month later_

"Sheldon, why are there gold stars all over the table?" Leonard asked. Sheldon was sitting on the floor with the living room table covered in kindergarten art supplies.

"Because I need them," Sheldon responded without looking up from his sticker organizing.

"For what?" Leonard asked worriedly.

"My calendar."

Leonard physically relaxed. "Let me guess - the days with gold stars are somehow correlated with your bowel movements?"

Sheldon thought of the octopus, who continued to make regular appearances at their P.E. "In a sense," Sheldon replied.

* * *

**The end**

**Author's notes**: Writing this was insanely fun, and your comments and encouragement made it infinitely more so. Thank you!

Also, one more shout out to **Lionne6** - she made this story a lot better than it was.


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